Lips of an Angel
by Bellamyblakes
Summary: Paige needs a shoulder to cry on after another fight with Bradley, and Dean lends himself to her to try and ease the pain... But have they just dug their own graves? / Ambraige affair sort of au!


**A/N: just fyi, this is going to be slightly au-ish. If you have seen total divas, then just keep in mind that in this fic, Paige & Bradley stayed together & it's not the best relationship. And I know, there really isn't a way in hell that she would of stayed with him, but let's just go along with it for the basis of this fic Rated M for language & themes kiddies. I may keep this is a one chapter thing or extend it? I'll see how the response goes! Let me know!**

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"Just get the fuck out, Paige!"

" **Fine**!"

And with his words of anger, she left. Her small luggage bag full to the brim of her ring gear and street clothes. _Another fight_. Another night that she was left to her own devices, her self destructive devices.

She had no idea where she was going, Paige sure as hell didn't need any comforting right now so that generally left out the females who would only tell her what a mistake seeing Bradley was, and she knew it. But there was just something so damn intoxicating about him that left he constantly crawling back to him. No matter how horrible he had been. It was like an addiction, a sick and horrible addiction that she couldn't escape no matter how hard she tried.

Sitting on the bench outside of the hotel in the cool winters night air, she picked out her phone and started scrolling through her contact list, mentally 'noping' everyone as their names flashed before the lcd screen. Eventually getting to the bottom of her contacts, she angrily shoved the phone back into her pocket, the stinging tears of anger started to prick at her ducts.

 _Now what are you going to do silly girl?_

She had no where to go... But she did have enough money to get her own room. Yeah, that is what she would do.

However that plan conveniently was scrapped as the only available room was just a few doors down from Bradley, the exact person she was planning to avoid. The receptionists offered to hold her bag until she figured out what to do, gladly accepting the offer she left the hotel with only her wallet and phone.

Hands shoved deep into her pockets as the cold night nipped at her pale skin, she felt herself vibrating. Eyes rolling because she knew exactly who it would be, she pulled it out of the pocket just enough to see the caller ID 'Bradley' pop up. Angrily locking her phone she shoved it down deeper and stormed off into the night. She wasn't overly familiar with the area, but she remembered a few of the guys talking about a small bar only a couple minutes walk from the hotel they were staying at, and low and behold she found herself there.

The smell of beer and cheap cigarettes engulfing her senses as she entered. At first, she didn't recognise a soul, not one familiar face. About ready to turn back around and just give in and return to the hotel, she was abruptly stopped buy a hand grabbing at hers. Spinning on her heels to see who the culprit was, Paige was reluctant to see none other than Dean Ambrose having a hold of her. Sure it was a slightly more scruffy and dirty version of Dean, but it was still a sense of familiarity.

"Wednesday Adams! What're ya' doing out here all on your lonesome. Y'know it's no place for a breakable little thing like you in this place." His raspy voice teased, earning him a swift punch in the gut from Paige, keeling him over just a little so her vision was level with his. Her head moved to talk in his ear, to make sure he could hear her over the thumping of horrible country music.

"Y'know I'm not damn breakable Ambrose, next comment like that and it's your balls I attack next." She threatened, but her voice held such a smoothness to it it was hard to tell. Rolling his icy blue eyes, he regained his stature and yanked her over to a booth in the back half of the room, where the music wasn't quite as intense and there were a few booths where people could just sit and have a drink. A barmaid quickly asked if they wanted drinks and Dean simply held up two fingers and she nodded - _clearly_ he was a regular.

"So morticia, why are you dwelling down here with the scumbags like me, huh? Comin' to join the crew?" His voice was so gentle she forget just who exactly whe was sitting across from. Her and Dean had always been friends, sharing a similar twisted humour and always having dirty jokes to inform one other on. Paige and the three elder man always found themselves talking. She wasn't exactly the greatest at 'girl talk' and the boys were always joking around and punching each other. It almost reminded her of the dynamic she had with her brothers back in England.

...Brothers that she hadn't once hooked up with in a drunken haze. First it was Seth, after a few tequila shots and a kiss on the cheek gone horrible wrong - the two were sucking face like it was the last day on earth - thankfully being good enough friends to laugh it off. Her and Dean had had their fair share of lip locks as well, always a little more intense than that of hers and Seths. There was a lust there that wasn't present with the two toned man. Her and Dean's encounters usually started off with them bickering and Seth just pushing them together to shut them up. Though this only happened 3, maybe 4 times? And it was all in good fun... Well to her.

Then there was Roman, _Broman_ and she referred to him as. She respected the fact he has Galina, the two even sharing a laugh when they boys would have too much to drink on the odd occasion that she joined them out on the town. Roman was like her big brother, reminding her much of how her real brothers would treat her. Quickly snapping back into reality at the literal snapping of Dean's fingers, she shook her head before replying.

"Oh yeah, I'm the queen of scumbags, y'should know that by now scruffy." "Alright scumbag queen, where's your little _boyfriend_ then? Too shy to come and play with old Deanosaur here?"

She snorted, "Deanosaur? That's a new one ambrose." Her gaze fell to her hands and the mentioning of Bradley though. She want exactly the most open person with her personal life, but she could trust Dean. The only person he would tell would be either Seth or Roman, and she didn't really mind them knowing... Plus they were having another of their 'we're not talking to seth until he apologises' bouts. Fortunately they only lasted a few days, maybe a week tops. Generally starting after raw. "Bradleys... Well, uh... Bein' a twat, really."

"Y'know what Paige? He don't deserve you. He's the ultimate scumbag, not me for once. I see you with him and it's all smiles in public, but then I see ya' like this and it hurts y'know morticia. You ain't the average chick, you got brains and stuff. Passion. Y'need someone who'll let you be the freaky little free spirit that you are. Someone who'll treat ya' like a fuckin' princess, but pull you back when you get a little too high and mighty, which we both know you do so well. I mean c'mon what's so special about old Braddles anyway? Kid can't even tell you the truth! If I were him, you'd be one happy son of bitch right now, that's for sure." He practically shouted like he was giving the Kings speech, Paige couldn't help but blush as his words, a slight dampness on her cheeks -dampness? Bringing a hand up and feeling her cheek she hadn't even realised that she had started crying. Hiding her face in shame between her hands, a quiet sob rang through her - hoping the music would be loud enough so he wouldn't hear. But the boy had senses like a bloodhound and had moved from one side of the booth to the other.

Now Dean was about as good as comforting someone crying as Paige was at making friends. They **sucked** at it. He awkwardly patter her on the head like a dog, and he could feel as a choked laugh reverberated throughout her, bringing a smile to his face. "Get a hold of yourself woman-" he teased so gently, careful not to make it come across as serious because after all... He had just made her cry.

"-I'm taking you home. And not to that scumbags place either, nah. Tonight your crashing with king scumbag over here." Grabbing a hand away from her face he yanked her up and she followed idly behind him. "Every scumbag king needs his queen now c'mon morticia." She couldn't help but laugh at him, still wiping away at her unceasing flow of water. She silently followed him back to their hotel, not a word shared between on the adventure home but it was a comfortable silence, not the awkward kind of silence you get when a conversation dies out.

"Hang on a sec." She near mumbled, asking the receptionist for her luggage back. Thanking the lady, she met Dean in the elevator, offering him a small and sad smile.

"Hey. No more of your sad face or I'm bootin' you back out." He teased again in the velvety husk that was his voice. Laughing and wiping at the now smudged makeup under her eyes, she game a small genuine smile followed by a small head nod.

"Oh, shutup scruffy."

Elevator dinging and within a few steps and she was walking into Dean's room. Something about it feeling **wrong**. She _was_ still with Bradley after all, she couldn't forget that. But Dean just walked around like she wasn't even there, making himself comfortable on the bed and flicking on the tv before kicking off his own shoes.

"Sit down, Morticia, y'makin' me feel nervous just standing there." He patted the space next to him on the bed, he could read the brief look of uncertainty in her eyes before rolling his own pair of cerulean hues. "I ain't going to bite you, now c'mon. There's shit all on tv, but y'know, whatever."

She could only nod, a lopsided smile on her face before she plopped herself down and sat against the headboard of double bed, barely enough room for her and his 6 foot 4 frame. Their bodies were touching and her head involuntarily rested against his shoulder.

"Why're you being so nice 'bout all of this? I mean, how often does Dean Ambrose invite people into his hotel room just to have somewhere to sleep?" She asked, looking up at him briefly before returning her gaze the trashy cartoons that we're playing this late at night.

"Because it's not very often you come across someone as genuine as you with a boyfriend who'd you rather see bein' hung by his intestines." He was a little too calm, the comment left his mouth like he had just told her about the weather. "Don't take this the wrong way Morticia, but the guys a jerk. I know y'probably get this from all the chicks and shit, but really. Guy can't even grow a decent beard."

She sighed and shoulders automatically slumped, _here we go_. She could give him the same generic lie that she had been giving everyone else for the past 3 months, or she could just come out with the truth. "The sex is great." She lightly joked, and she heard him make a gagging noise. "But he's the only constant thing I have in my life. Sure he can be a dick, but he's always there. With my track record of keeping friends, or lack thereof – it's nice to always be able to come back to somethin'... Even if that somethin' is a twat. I don't know, Dean. It's like a sick addiction, no matter how much he makes me want to hate him...I can't." Voice breaking on the last note, and she could feel those damn tears again. "Stop crying!" She mumbled to herself, viciously wiping away at the fallen tears.

His arm felt like one of those bars that held you in place before you plummeted down a rollercoaster, secured around her waist as he pulled her small frame into his chest.

Truthfully, he hadn't planned on even touching her, just letting her get it all out of her system – but some form of protectiveness came over him and before he could stop himself, she was a sobbing mess against his chest. Pale hands clutching at his shirt as her tears stained the fabric. His hand was rubbing circles against her back as wrenching sob after wrenching sob flowed from her like a sick orchestra, and if he wasn't mistaken he could heard his heart breaking for the poor girl.

Having a moment of clarity, he began to speak, unsure of where his words came from but they seemed to calm her down: calmed her enough to stop the sobbing _anyway_. "Hey, forget about him. He ain't shit Paige. He's not even worthy of the title scumbag, he's below scumbag. I'm a fuckin' **prince** compared to him. Seriously Morticia, ya' don't need him. Hell, you don't need anyone. I know you and dammit you're probably the strongest chick I know, and the fact that he does **this** to you? Nah, that's not right. That's not fuckin' right." Dean hadn't realised, but he was gritting his teeth by the end of it.

She was the strongest person he knew, and to see her so vulnerable and upset caused him some serious grief. _Just what was this guy doing to her?_ Pulling her up closer to him so she was almost sitting in his lap, he reached for her face and gently moved it so he could look at her, but she refused to make eye contact, which he understood.

His thumbs wiped away at her tears, earning a sniffle from her as she tried to pull away but he wouldn't let her. "You don't deserve to be upset like this Paige." Was all he said, her eyes finally flicking up at him and it damn near broke him. They held such anger and bitterness to them, but then there was that damn vulnerability laced throughout her gaze. "He doesn't deserve you."

Her bottom lip quivered and she steadied it with her teeth briefly as she tried to formulate an answer. "...But I don't deserve anyone, I'm lucky he even puts up with me. He always says how lucky I should be."

Dean's mouth hung open in complete disgust. **_How dare he_**. If it wasn't for the fact that she was sitting in his lap, he'd walk down to his room and punch his smug mug right off of his face. Beat him until he was nothing but a lifeless lump on flesh on the ground. If he ever got his hands on him, it'd be bye bye Bradley. "He's a fucking **liar** , Paige. And if I ever see him I'll be cleaning bits of his **face** outta' my fingers."

"But i just can't let him go..." She whispered, eyes going down again. Without him, she felt like she would have no one. "I wouldn't know where to even begin."

An urge came over him, a urge that he couldn't stop. In that moment, she just looked so fragile and vulnerable. Looked like all she needed was for someone to make her forget all the pain he had caused. Dean had always found Paige to be beautiful, not his usual type – Blonde with great tits – but there was something that was more than skin deep that just radiated from her. Maybe it was the fact that she was carefree, didn't care that she was different, there was just an aspect that he couldn't lay a damn finger on.

His voice turned to a low husk, almost a whisper but it still held the familiar velvety warmth that had made her calm down earlier. "Paige. I can make it all go away...Just for the night." He was treading in dangerous water and he knew it, but he was a self appointed scumbag. "I'm not forcing you to do anything...Just keep it in min-" But his proposition was cut off. His lips fully covered by Paige's full & soft ones. It had been so long since he had felt the lushness of those lips on his own, and he would of been a **liar** if he said he didn't miss it. Dean wasn't exactly going to deny himself of the opportunity to kiss back the ravenette, so he did so. **_Hard_**.

She couldn't believe what she was doing, although really she could. The kiss was so intimate, and intimacy was something that she and Bradley never shared; sure they kissed and 'banged', as he liked to refer to it as, every now and then. But it was always cold and to _his_ benefit, never her own. So she continued to kiss Dean, her hands roaming under his shirt to explore the plains of his hard chest while his settled on her rear.

She lightly moaned into his mouth, snapping him back into the reality of what was happening – he was willing to do this, but only if she was **positive**. The auburn haired man pulled away, catching his breath before he could even contemplate speaking. "...Paige...Are you sure?" His breathing was still heavy as he looked deep into the smokey onyx colour of her eyes, but he was only answered by the slightest of head nods and her lips back on his.

"Make me-" Kissing him through her words, moving from his lips to his ear. "-Forget. Make all the pain go away, _please Dean_."

The genuine pleading from her last words gave him the only affirmation he needed to continue, and within minutes all remnants of their clothing had been flung off and decorated Dean's room. The contrasting colouring of the two skin tones being the only thing to decipher between them, where his tanned pallor met ivory white.

Dean had never been a selfish lover, and by the way Paige had been talking, she needed all the pleasuring she could get. So she let him dominate, take control and let him to things to her which hadn't been done in months. He kissed her inner thighs, suckled on her sweet spots which he had found without even trying – partially due to the fact that she was **riddled** with them. He even took the time to listen to her sweet moans, still laced with that heavenly accent during the heat of the moment, to figure out what **really** made her lose control. Taking a mental note as his tongue worked her sweet center as to what worked, judging by the tugging of his hair and the moaning of his name – he assumed basically anything he was throwing at her was working.

She was still unsure as to why she was so responsive to him, almost like every touch he made against her body was a flaming tongue that illuminated her center and heated her core, reducing her to a withering and shaking mess beneath him, over and over and over again. Paige had never had pleasure rocket through her body like now before with Bradley, it was always for his benefit – but Dean was doing things she had only **dreamed** of Bradley doing to her.

It wasn't long before they both felt as though they would pass out from exhaustion, her hips lazily grinding against his while she continued to straddle him. Dean himself was occupied with the slow and easy motion of his hip thrusts while attacking one of the sweet spots on her neck, located right where her collarbone connected with the base of her gorgeous neck – but was so careful not to leave a mark on the mother of pearl skin as he went so. Moments later and his name was being moaned for the final time that night, her walls clamping so tightly around him that his explosion was near instant, having to bite down on his lip to avoid marring the perfect skin while her nails tore his back near ribbons.

They remained tangled within one other until they both came down from their climax, Paige soon rolling off of him while he disposed of the soiled latex. She'd gone to her bag where she picked out a pair of underwear and an old top to sleep in, Dean throwing on a pair of gym pants before they both climbed into the bed that had just put them both in a very dangerous situation. She curled up into her usual ball that she slept in, her eyes looking into his as he laid there in silence, examining the plains of her face. So lost in her beauty he nearly missed her voice.

"Dean – _thank you_."

Her low timbre was barely above a whisper, body moving to deliver the most gentle of kisses to his lips – almost ghosting over them before turning her back to him. Following her lead, he turned the opposite direction and falling asleep within minutes out of exhaustion.

But not Paige, no. She had just slept with someone who was not her own, and be damned if she would lie and say it wasn't the best sex she had had since moving to America, if not in her **life**. There were moments she swore they were so intimate that he was reaching out and touching her soul, _and it frightened her_. Curling further into her ball as their backs were pressed together, sleep **eventually** managed to find her but the morning was soon approaching. And she wasn't too excited about having to deal with the reality of what had just happened.


End file.
